Find Your Wings

I would first like to say thank you for the OVERWHELMING support of my friends and family who have read this little piece of the internet I call my own. It is amazing what social networking can do nowadays... a simple post about my itty bitty blog on my profile and the flood of texts, comments, well wishes and encouragement I have been receiving all day are enough to bring a girl to tears. Seriously, I have some pretty badass people in my life as cheerleaders. It's incredible, and impossible without you.

Moving on...

For the past two days I have been immersing myself in wedding planning. By that, I mean I have been watching Say Yes To The Dress, both Bridesmaids and Brides editions, on an endless loop. I have learned I do not like silky taffeta. I want shorter dresses, charcoal grey or navy blue (jury is still out on that one) and the most important thing I've learned?

Bitches. Be. Cray.

Some of the people on that show are just outrageous! I witnessed a friendship destroyed, multiple sister feuds, a southern belle show-down, and more meltdowns than Chernobyl. It reinforces my choice to follow in my dear friend Lyndsie's footsteps and have all my girls pick their gown in the color, fabric and length I pre-designate. Eliminates (most of) the drama.

While I was watching, there was one particular bridesmaid that really struck a chord. I will say, before going any further, that I will cry at a laundry detergent commercial if it has any one of the following: old people holding hands, dads and their kids, puppies, or sappy music. Any combo of those and game over - I am a sobbing mess for at least 5 minutes afterwards.

This episode featured Jamie, a former collegiate swimmer who was uncomfortable with her new post-athletics body. She was in no way, shape or form "fat" - sure, she was a little curvy, but she was also tall and athletic. She and her sister were the only bridesmaids in her mother's small second ceremony to her stepfather, and with each dress she bravely came out on the pedestal in, you could see her self-esteem crumble. She eventually broke down to her mother and the rest of America about her hatred of her new body, how uncomfortable she felt, and how she no longer knew how to shop for herself.

I sat under my fleece blanket in my tiny apartment, mason jar of water with lemon in hand, openly weeping for this girl. It was so close to home, from the post-athlete body crisis to being in her mother's second wedding to her sister - tall, skinny, dark hair and skin. It was my family on that television and I was playing the role of Jamie.

After she found a dress that flattered her figure and actually made her smile when she looked in the mirror, I thought about how far I've come since I first felt that way. I haven't had that soul-crushing sadness about myself since September after the second turning point picture emerged (it's on my first post... if you haven't seen it yet take a peek), and that's pretty awesome for someone who's always struggled with self-esteem issues. Even when I was at my prime "fighting weight", in the best shape of my life, Senior year of college passing fitness tests and feeling good, I never felt truely good about myself. I was always the tall girl, the "big" girl, the girl that could bench press the majority of my friend base. I never thought I was sexy.

I don't know if it's the clean eating, being in a healthy relationship with a wonderful man, more maturity that comes with being 24, or just that I've finally turned that corner for myself. I'm sure it's a combination of all things, but I feel like a stone cold fox more often than not nowadays. (Okay, maybe not quite that confident yet, but definitely getting there!)

So, to all the Jamie's in the world who have gone through some changes and aren't quite sure how to navigate them yet, just keep swimming. It does get better. Eventually your low self-esteem days turn into okay days, then good days, then fan-freaking-tastic days where you suddenly feel like a Victoria Secret Model in the grocery store, strutting your stuff down the produce aisle with imaginary wings taped to your back. It's a process, it takes time, and it may not always end up the way you thought it would. But you will end up right where you are supposed to be. That's what I tell myself when I have my bad days where nothing fits right and I'd rather just devour an entire pizza and pass out then face the world. It's about having more days where you feel confident in yourself no matter what you see looking back at you when you look in the mirror.

Especially when the person looking back at you is wearing a smile. And maybe some wings.